Exhibition Bella: Part Two
by Team Cullen Boys
Summary: Edward is still the artist… Bella is still his muse, but when she runs to Italy to evade her feelings she realizes it isn't that easy. The source of her heartbreak, longing and desire had followed her across the world with his heart on his sleeve and his paintbrush in hand.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! To all new readers this is Part Two of my story Exhibition Bella, if you haven't read Part One you can get to it on my profile page. To all my alum readers welcome back and I hope you like Part Two! This chapter is just an introductory chapter as a bridge between Part One and Part Two. **

**Happy reading!**

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><p>I missed her.<p>

After Katie showed me that photo I reached out to her. Mailing her a letter asking how she was doing… (if she was pregnant specifically) and sending her a chunk of the money I made from selling the pieces. She deserved more than I really did, she was a working model after all.

But that was two weeks ago and I hadn't heard anything from her.

It wasn't worth it.

At my opening she had told me she wished all of _this_ was worth it. The fame. The notoriety. The success. But it wasn't. I spent my days drinking scotch or brandy or rum or whatever dark brown alcoholic beverage I had readily available. I would drink my liquor on my sofa and stare up at my painting, _The Last Virginal—Juliet Capulet_. It hung over my mantel and always brought a flushing wave of memories to me.

I was about to begin my nightly ritual when I heard a knock at my door. I only had a few guests' theses days, my two friends Jasper and Emmett, my dad and his wife Esme and my art dealer Rosalie…

"When was the last time you checked your P.O box Ed? I mean honestly I told you social media was the way to go but _noooo_ you had to be difficult and now you reap the consequences. Bundles and bundles of fan mail for you my darling" Rose huffed as she welcomed herself in jamming stacks of envelopes in my hand.

"Hello Rosalie" I greeted taking the letters and closing the door.

"I really wish you would get rid of the scruff, its so William Fitzsimmons-y you look like Emmett _pre_ architectural-irony when he had that funky 70s mountaineer thing going for him."

"Thank you but I don't really see the point in shaving or getting a hair cut. I'm a professional artist now, which means I have license to be a social recluse without anyone judging me too critically. It practically comes with the job."

"I should become an artist then. No one could judge me for staying at home showering once a week, never wearing makeup, and letting my roots grow out revealing my true hair color" she replied laughingly.

"You see this is where a double standard comes into play. You wouldn't be considered an artist just a liberal feminist."

She swatted me hard with her hand but I barely felt it tingle, as I was already a little inebriated.

"This is why people hate you Edward."

I shrugged.

"Lets get down to business, I have another appointment—" she began.

"At nine at night?"

"Art doesn't sleep dear boy, and neither do artists. I swear these people I'm representing now are vampires, they call me in the middle of the night claiming they have just created the next _Pietà_" she shook her. "But not you, no, Edward Cullen has decided to drink himself into oblivion and neglect all of his friends."

"Is Emmett saying I'm neglecting him because we were just playing COD yesterday" I asked honestly.

She looked at me incredulously. She always had this _look_ as if she was looking at someone completely beneath her intelligence. That was the look she gave me. But I wasn't offended it's just how she looked.

"Moving on… your interview a couple of weeks ago created a lot of buzz for you. Everyone ate it up. The whole heartbroken, depressed and reclusive artist persona was perfect, you know that style is in with the hipsters. Apparently people are 'shipping' you on Tumblr. So kudos to you. Now in regards to art when do you expect your sophomore exhibit to be? 8 months? 12? We can really ride this tidal wave all the home."

"As you can see I haven't really been inspired to create anything. My studio is filled with scathing hate art. Nothing worth showcasing at MoMa."

"It could be a new artistic direction you're taking," she suggested.

"I don't think so. It's more embarrassingly depressing than cerebrally captivating."

"I'm telling you, you will get over her. One day you'll wake up and she'll be forgotten. She'll be nothing more than that girl you painted that semester. I promise all heartaches pass" she spoke then went back to her folders. "In the meantime though I think you should get out of here. Work on location for a bit. I have a lot of interesting offers here that I'd like to run by you."

"Go ahead" I offered and listened.

"This first one is kind of funny because well it doesn't seem to fit you but NYU has asked if you'll teach a realism course this coming fall semester."

"Me? A professor?"

It was laughable. Rose and I both laughed. It felt good to laugh again.

"Pass."

"You've been asked to create a movie poster for a historical drama starring Kiera Knightley, from what I've read it's Oscar worthy" she said in a sing-songy voice, I'm sure its because she wanted me to take that job so she could "accompany" me to California.

"Eh, pass."

"Come on Edward, California is beautiful. The sun, the sand, the hot surfer guys…"

"You're engaged," I reminded her.

"I know but Emmett doesn't surf, he plays with metal in workshops and draws on blue paper which isn't sexy at all," she pouted. "But I love him nonetheless."

"No to California" I repeated.

"What about writing? _The Times_ wants you to write for their new 'young artists' page," she offered.

"I'm not a writer in the least bit."

And I'm also not interested in young artists… besides myself that is.

Rosalie rolled her eyes and continued. " The La Scala Ballet Theater in Italy wants you to create some paintings of their ballerinas for their theater lobby."

"I'm no Degas…"

"Neither was Degas before he became _Degas_" she rationalized. "These are all commissioned works. They aren't paying you for Exhibition Bella, the are paying you for your style and craftsmanship not your artistic individuality or impressions."

She had a point there…

"Finally Aro Volturi has asked to commission you for the yearly family portrait as well as an 'intimate portrait of his wife Sulpicia' of course all expenses will be paid."

"This job is in Italy as well?" I asked thinking immediately of Bella.

"Seems like it," she muttered riffling through papers again. "Although I really wonder what he means by 'an intimate portrait'. Maybe he wants you to paint Sulpicia like one of your French girls," she laughed and again I laughed with her at her reference to Rose and Jack from the Hollywood rendition of Titanic. Titanic was sort of our movie. One time when I painted her it played in the background and we always laugh at it now.

"I don't think I'd be very comfortable painting Aro's wife like one of the French girls," I laughed heartily.

"But seriously though, it's a really good offer. Aro is known to pay top dollar for his family portraits, every couple of years they hire a new up and coming artist to do them and that lucky artist literally gets put on the map. The painting goes down in history and in textbooks and is seen by thousands of people at their national archive in Volterra."

"I'll have to think about it."

If I go to Italy Bella might think I'm stalking her. But if I stay in Seattle she might resent me because I didn't chase after her…

"Suit yourself, but I highly suggest you get away from Seattle for a bit, and I honestly think California is the place to do it. All those tan, blonde beach babes just calling your name" she teased.

"No thanks, I prefer my women pale, brunette, and bibliophilic" I rejected her while opening the door.

"I'll find someone for you then, I promise" she kissed me on the cheek goodbye. "Look through those letters and reply to a few, I'm sure your fans would love to hear from you."

I nodded, closed the door, and made my way to the kitchen for a drink. Tonight was a scotch kind of night—every night was a scotch kind of night. With my drink in one hand and my envelopes in the other I sat down at the bar and rifled through the letters. I read a few that were very deep and understanding of the hidden nuances within my exhibition but the majority of the letters were on pink scented paper from teenage girls who drew hearts over the i's and wrote in shouty capitals: OOOOOOMMMMMGGGGG Edward you are like the cutest artist ever! If you don't marry Bella will you PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE marry me? I LOVE YOU!

I set aside the ones I enjoyed so I could reply to those at a later date and found a letter that's country of origin was Italy, which immediately piqued my interest. And when I read the return address I was dumbstruck.

It was from Bella.

I flipped it over and tore through the envelope revealing four papers folded pristinely on stationary that read _Isabella Swan_ at the top in fancy cursive script.

_Edward,_

_I received your letter a few days ago and I have to admit it surprised me. I wasn't expecting to hear from you after the way we left things. But after a few days of deliberation I thought it would be better for me to write you back. I figured if I wrote to your P.O. box instead of your penthouse address there was a greater chance that this letter could get lost in the shuffle with all the others, that perhaps you wouldn't read it at all. I hear celebrities have assistances that read their fan mail, since you're practically a celebrity you probably have someone reading this for you as well. _

_But if you are truly reading this then, hello. Just to get the awkwardness out of the way first I am not pregnant. Yes, the test was mine but it was negative I promise. Which is probably the best thing for both of us. I'm not ready to be a mother and you're not ready to be a father. Hell we both chose our careers over each other and look where that lead us… I'm shuffling books from a dusty old library to a shiny new library and you… well you're doing interviews with Katie Couric and hiding from paparazzi._

_ I did see the interview and although I was mad at first I'm not anymore. I was angry with you because you were so honest and I realized it was stupid of me to be angry with you because of that. It was probably one of the reasons I fell in love with you. There were never any secrets between us. You were honest with me about how you felt then and you were honest in your interview. How could I possibly be mad about that? However I was mad that you equated me to Esther Greenwood. I love Sylvia as much as the next English major but come on… You couldn't have said Catharine Earnshaw at least?_

_You asked me in your letter how I was doing and I think I should tell you I'm getting on wonderfully. I adore Italy although my Italian is molto scarsa. I don't see much of Aro, the family lives in a residency section in the castle de Volterra and only family or approved guests are allowed there. I went there once when I first came to Italy for dinner and wine but when I'm not working I spend most of my time in the village. My home is in the village. It's a guest home of Aro's that they use as a residence for their temporary employees. Although at the moment I am the only one so I have the whole place to myself, which is pretty spectacular. A lady comes by every day and cleans and makes my bed and makes me breakfast. I try to speak to her but again my Italian is molto scarsa, so scarsa that I don't even know her name. The village is wonderful though. The people are so kind and welcoming and they have actual craftsmen here. Like carpenters and butchers and florists. It's like being transported back in time. And I'm telling you our local Whole Foods has nothing on the fruit here. It's so crisp and delicious I've found myself wanting nothing more than grapes all day, every day. Not including the wine. It's almost dangerous how enjoyable it tastes, its truly an experience in itself. _

_My work is very interesting. The Volturi's collection is absolutely breathtaking. Holding books from the 1600s or earlier is terrifying but awakening at the same time. Sometimes I have to pinch myself as a reminder that this is real life, that I am actually restoring and arranging the largest collection of classic literature and philosophy in the world. It is a once in a lifetime experience I'll never forget. _

_As for the money you sent me I really don't need it. It was your technique and skill that accumulated that money. All I did was sit and look relatively pretty. Keep it. _

_You might want to consider shaving the mustache/beard combo you have going on. I believe something might have died in there. _

_Forever yours truly,_

_Bella _

…

"Scotch" I told the waitress once we ordered our drinks.

It was Tuesday again and on Tuesday nights I always met up with my two friends Jasper and Emmett at our favorite basement bar. The last couple of weeks I've been neglecting them as well as many other responsibilities so this was the breaking of a new habit.

"Are you too good for plain old beer now?" Emmett asked taking off his jacket.

That wasn't the truth; beer just didn't numb the pain as well as whisky did.

"So how are things?" I asked changing the subject and diverting attention.

"Do you know that saying 'happy wife happy life'?" Emmett asked taking a swig of his beer, Jasper and I nodded. "It's not just an idiom, Rose is stressed out which means I'm stressed out. I've had to start smoking grass again."

"You can get away with that?"

"Hell no! But I've learned how to work my way around it. While she's meditating after yoga I'm doing my own version of mediation… if you know what I mean" Emmett laughed boisterously.

"You have seemed a little more mellowed out on our nightly games of COD, no more rage quitting" I taunted.

"My good friend Mary Jane has been by my side."

"What about you Jas?"

"Things have been pretty good. I quit my job," he said casually as if he was discussing the weather. Jasper wasn't the kind of guy to let anything go lightheartedly without critically weighing pros and cons. Besides that he just seemed to me like the type to be completely satisfied with a desk job. Emmett and I… well let's just say we both have undiagnosed ADD, sitting at a desk all day would drive us insane.

"I don't believe you," I countered.

"I know it's crazy I didn't believe him either" Emmett agreed.

"Really I did. One day I just went in and I was like I quit" he nodded trying to get me to believe him but I was still skeptical, I can't believe he actually went through with it.

"And you didn't have a backup plan?"

"Not really. Normally I wouldn't quit a job without having another already lined up but I was just in the moment."

"Have you ever been _in the moment_?" I asked biting back a laugh because I knew Jas. "How did it feel?"

"Exhilarating… at first then I had a panic attack and started hyperventilating."

Now _that_ sounded more like the Jas I knew.

"So what's next?"

"He's a full time writer now so he _also_ has social license to become a recluse" Emmett answered and I blatantly ignored his snide comment aimed towards me.

"Working on finishing that book?"

"Yeah but in the meantime I have to make some money so I'm performing with Alice again."

"Really?"

"Some music guy was at your exhibition and saw Alice and I perform and has been in constant contact about working with us… the only problem is there is no _us_"

"So you're a singer now?"

He shrugged nonchalantly "It's up in the air" what happened to my best friend?

"Come on Edward tell us what you've been up to in that studio of yours we haven't seen you in weeks?"

"Nothing really" I admitted.

"Nothing?" Jas repeated.

"Well I've been playing with hate art. Mr. Berty says all the pieces are very shallow, adolescent angsty, and emotionally draining. But I like the reds. I've been using a lot of reds lately. It's a very complex color," I informed them.

"Have you tried leaving your house? Maybe nature will inspire you like Bella did" Jas suggested kindly.

"Nature only inspires Emmett, and by nature I mean weed. I'm more in tune with human bodies and minimalism. Nature is too messy."

"I always thought you'd be really good surrealism. You might want to give that a try."

"Surrealism takes too much time to plan and organize. Usually I just paint and the chips fall where they may."

"So tell us more about your hate art then, it sounds truly enthralling" Jasper noted and I really believe he has changed a bit because it was usually Emmett who was the condescending prick—that's why he matched so well with Rosalie, they were both condescending pricks.

"Do you draw Bella burning in a fiery pit or something?" Emmett laughed and Jasper joined in with him.

"Ha ha, no" I rolled my eyes. "It's more symbolic hate. I think a good box to put it in is abstract expressionism."

"Do you really hate her?" Jasper asked then with all seriousness.

"No, not at all" it was honestly the truth. I didn't hate Bella. I hated that I allowed myself to love her. I hated that I experienced the best moments of my life with her and I would never be able to recapture them again. "The hate art is not exhibiting my hatred for Bella because I don't hate her. It more so exhibits my hatred for myself and her decisions, I've actually been thinking about it a lot and I'm not quite sure her decisions were that drastic I mean she's only looking out for herself right? And really how reliable am I? Isn't that what women want? Reliability?" the words came out of my mouth exactly as they sounded in my head and I stared at them waiting for an answer. After all they were both in functioning and happy relationships with Jasper singing duets with Alice and Emmett put a rock on Rose's finger.

"I have no fucking clue what women want," Emmett admitted.

"What?"

"None whatsoever" Jasper added.

"Didn't you and Rose break up once?" I asked Emmett.

"Yeah but she didn't flea the country to get away from me… take my advice Eddie, it's your fault. I learned the hard way."

"My fault? Why? I told her I was sorry and she still left."

"No matter what it's your fault. Literally she could go out and murder someone and it would still be your fault."

"So what do I do?"

"Go get her back. You can't just sit here and wait for her to come back because I promise you if you do that she'll come back with some other dude" Emmett seethed.

"Are you speaking from experience?" Jasper asked patting him on the back.

"Royce fucking King. We break up and she runs into the arms of Royce fucking King! Like really what does he have that I don't? A tiny dick and hedge fund manager?"

"Calm down buddy, here have another drink" Jasper soothed him by pushing him a fresh glass of beer.

While he gulped it down like Goliath Jasper spoke. "He's right though. If you really care about her and want to stop making hate art and verbalizing your love for the color red then you need to go get her. She's in Italy right?" I nodded. "Get your ass on a plane then and find her."

Emmett let out a belch that shook the table and burned my nose.

…

"I'm supposed to be meeting Dr. Carlisle Cullen here" I told the maître d at the restaurant I agreed to meet my dad and Esme at that evening.

"Surely sir, this way" I followed him through the throng of tables where exclusive diners sat with napkins in their laps and uninterested smiles on their faces. I should have dressed a little more appropriately so I could blend into the masses.

"Edward you're late" my dad greeted standing up to hug me. "And underdressed."

"I'm sorry my housekeeper had put away my evening suit so I had to come in my work clothes, apologies" I replied a little—maybe a lot—sarcastically, while I leaned over to kiss Esme on the cheek.

"Shall I bring the wine menu?" the maître d asked.

"No need, bring us a bottle of your finest wine, we're celebrating" my dad answered.

The maître d nodded.

"What are we celebrating?" I asked picking up the menu.

"Your resurrection of course" he smirked. My humor was clearly inherited. Esme swatted him gently.

"Enough of that, I wanted a nice dinner without you two throwing figurative knives at each others souls."

"We'd never do that, we wouldn't want the figurative blood to splatter on your dress. You look lovely tonight by the way" I responded.

"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment, but thank you Edward."

"How was the south of France?" I questioned after the waiter had taken our order and brought out wine. Dr. Carlisle and Esme had gotten married over the summer in a small and intimate garden ceremony with 25 guests and minimal fanfare. They spent the remainder of the summer eating macaroons and lounging on beach chairs in Nice and surrounding countries of similar climate. Dad was happy so I was happy. Esme was happy so I was happy. Their mutual happiness was probably the only good thing that happened to me that summer.

"Hot" dad answered immediately.

"You don't know hot," Esme laughed. "The weather was perfectly suitable, I had a marvelous time."

"Did you go to the Louvre?"

"Of course, every time I go there I always forget how massive it is. If you want to truly analyze every painting and figurine there you have to dedicate at least six months to the place otherwise you'd be doing it a disservice. I still haven't completed it yet."

"What about you old man?"

"You know how I feel about the Louvre in the summer, it's overrun by tourists. We should have spent more time at Paris MoMa."

"We spent more time there than we did at the Louvre" Esme countered.

"It didn't feel like it" Carlisle replied with a sly smile that Esme kissed gently.

"How was your summer Edward? We didn't hear much from you" Esme asked once her salmon had been served.

"It was interesting."

"Really what happened?"

"You know I just started working on some interesting pieces…" I lied. "A little bit of abstract expressionism."

"It worked for Jackson Pollock but it seems like a dramatic shift from your usual genre."

"I was just working through a lot of emotions that I couldn't channel into the human form" I said in a stream of consciousness manner that actually made a little bit of sense. I'd have to save that for later.

"Well what's next then? Any upcoming projects?"

"Two. A ballet company wants me to do some paintings for their theater lobby and school, they had mentioned some might be auctioned off for fundraising but I don't really know. Oh and Aro Volturi wants me to paint their family portrait ."

"Those both sound very promising. You know the last artist Aro commissioned carried a showcase Tate Modern" Esme noted.

"Which one are you going to take?"

"Both"

"Both?" Esme and Carlisle blurted at the same time.

"Wouldn't that be biting off a bit more than you could chew?" my dad argued.

I shrugged "Perhaps. But it will keep me busy."

"Don't you want to have a life outside of work though?"

I shrugged again and speared a stalk of asparagus.

"When do you start these jobs then?"

"My plane leaves for Italy tomorrow"

"Italy? The jobs are in Italy?"

"Didn't I mention that?"

"No you surely did not."

"Oh well, yeah, the jobs are in Italy."

"How long are you staying there?"

I noted that Carlisle seemed particularly peeved with this knowledge and Esme stayed unnaturally silence.

I shrugged yet again. "I don't know."

"That's completely irresponsible Edward you know if you stay in a country more than six months you need a special visa, especially if your going to be working there… you'll have to file American taxes as well as Italian taxes not to mention immunizations, when was the last time you had a flu shot? Here I'll call the hospital and pull up your records you know they have legionnaires disease in Italy there was an outbreak just last summer—"

"Carlisle calm down" Esme soothed him. "I'm sure Edward has all of this worked out and organized" she said then looked at me with eyes that warned me to go along with her train of thought because even she knew I hadn't thought about visas or vaccinations or even foreign adapters.

"Yes of course. What do you think Rose gets 10% for?"

"I can't believe you didn't tell me this Edward. Is this because of Bella?"

"No—no, I got the job offers before and I had completely forgotten she was in Italy as well" I spew lies at times to defend my irrational adoration of Isabella Swan, I'm working through it with my therapist.

"I don't want you to go there and have any high expectations or anything."

"High expectations for what?"

"For you and Bella, she might not reciprocate your feelings" Carlisle explained.

"I have no feelings for Bella, she's just a means of inspiration. We're just friends. In fact she mailed me a letter a few weeks ago congratulating me on my success."

Carlisle and Esme exchanged a silent conversation but I pretended as if I didn't notice. I knew what I was getting into. I'd be working in Italy and so would she then we'd run into each other at a market and then we'd get back together. Simple as that. She'd definitely take me back, I would just apologize for whatever she thought I did and we'd be together again.

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><p><strong>So most of the story will take place in Italy following this introductory chapter, and some new characters will be introduced. Let me know what you think, please review!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone! Funny story… I had this chapter sitting in my Doc Manager thinking I had already posted it then I came back a week later and here it was… unposted. **

**This chapter introduces a slew of new characters. For the most part these characters aren't extensively displayed in the twilight series so I took some liberty in sketching their personalities. I did some research on twilight lexicon and the twilight wiki so I took some traits from those listed on the websites and kind of ran with them!**

**Anyways I hope you really enjoy this long chapter!**

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><p>CHAPTER TWO<p>

A thirteen-hour flight wasn't necessarily my idea of an enjoyable day but it was an unavoidable evil. My time was adequately dispersed between sleeping, reading, eating, peeing, and going through all the emails Rosalie sends me. She's quite efficient.

I landed in Rome around noon then caught a train to Siena then Poggibonsi and eventually ended up at the front step of Castle de Volterra around 4 with a sweaty back and tired muscles.

Upon knocking, the doorman looked at me with peculiar interest.

"Hey, I'm Edward Cullen, I'm supposed to be working on a painting for Aro" I introduced myself with an outstretched arm that was rejected with a dismissive gaze.

"Of course you are" he opened the door wider. "Come inside I will retrieve the housemaster."

I came inside with my suitcases and stood in the foyer taking in the immense palace. The place was built of stone and wood. It bordered the line of ancient and modern. I'm supposing it had something to so with the fact that people actually lived here instead of it being just a tourist attraction. The lights were dimmed in a low and seductively dangerous way that made the place seem haunted.

I waited for a good five minutes before Aro came rushing down the grand staircase in a thick black cape. Who wears a black cape in August in Italy?

"Edward!" he sang in that grand obtuse way of his with outstretched arms and that quasi-creepy Cheshire cat grin on his face. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming this soon? I would have sent for you, did you take a train?" he asked bringing me in for a hug.

"Yes."

"You should have told me you were coming I would have offered you my private car, you could have traveled in comfort."

"It wasn't too bad, I could have fared far worse."

"Regardless, I wanted Sulpicia to come down and meet you but you know how women are, she couldn't possibly come down with freshening up, therefore you have to come to my dinner table tonight."

"I don't know Aro I'm really quite travel weary."

"Don't reject me, it will just be an intimate little get together. You, me, Sulpicia, my brothers and their wives, and our mutual dear friend Isabella."

"Bella" I breathed suddenly and it was like I had been hit in the chest. She was nearby, somewhere in this country. At this very moment we were closer than we had been in months.

"Of course, you knew she was here right?"

"Yes" I answered.

"I probably should have mentioned this before because I know there is some tension between you two, but our second guest home is being renovated so I was hoping you wouldn't mind living with Bella. Now before you object the house is quite large you could probably go days without seeing her if you avoid common areas."

Bella and I are going to be living in the same house. This might speed up our reunion.

"I mean I didn't anticipate that but it shouldn't be an issue, we're cordial."

He laughed like a hyena throwing his head back "Beautiful, just beautiful! Then you'll join me tonight?"

"I'd love to."

"Great then I'll let you rest up and you can meet me back up the hill at 9, we eat dinner a little later here in Italy then you do in America but I hope you'll enjoy it" he clapped me on the back. "Afton!" he shouted, his voice bouncing off the stone.

"Yes sir" the butler who opened my door appeared out of nowhere.

"Can you please help young Edward with his suitcases and take him to the guest villa and make sure he is all cared for? I will call the chef for dinner tonight, go on."

"Of course" the door was opened and I shook hands with Aro again and was out the door taking in the Italian air.

The butler, Afton didn't speak during the entire walk down the mountain to the guest villa. It was an awkward walk but a scenic one.

"You are here," Afton said dropping my suitcase on the steps of a washed stone villa with shrubbery waltzing up the walls. He unlocked the door then placed the key in my hand. "Your room is just up the grand staircase and the first door on the right."

"Thank you."

Afton nodded turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction. Walking up the staircase I found my room right where Afton said it would be. The three windows were open letting in the cool Italian breeze that flowed past long white drapes and the large queen sized bed was covered in clean, nondescript white linen. Under the archway was a sitting room separate from the bedroom that housed a white linen couch with green pillows and a drawing desk beneath one of the large windows. There were fresh flowers on the coffee table as well as the two nightstands opposite the bed. The room was quite large and quite nice. The furniture was extremely simplistic but at the same time historically extravagant with the miniscule details that made it beautiful.

Dropping my bags in the middle of the floor I fell back on the bed and tried to sleep but I couldn't. Maybe it was the sunset falling through my window, or perhaps it was the fact that I was in a beautiful country, it might be because my body's internal stopwatch is still somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. Regardless I swiftly got up and went to the drawing table to briefly sketch my surroundings.

I'm not particularly great with landscapes or still life's but it's the effort that counts. Perhaps once I'm dead some museum will host an exhibit with all my personal drawings and they'll have rousing debates on whether my still life's were artistically intellectual or just amateur doodles.

I let my mind wander as my body drifted from place to place. I went from the drawing table to the couch then down the hall to a gallery, then down the staircase to the foyer, finally ending at the kitchen table. As I sketched the view from the bay window I heard the click of the front door being unlocked and a resounding ring of laughter. Her laughter. I stood up immediately and followed the sound stopping dead in the foyer when I saw her with another man.

She looked the same but different. Happier, tanner, a bit skinnier, prettier… her hair was longer.

"Edward" she breathed, her eyes grew wide but her body became visably tense. With a mouth slack open she stared at me in surprise.

"Wha—what are you—how did you?" she stuttered.

"Bella do you know this guy" the dark haired, tan man who was with her stood in between us.

"Bella—"

"He's a friend from Seattle" she clarified. "I just wasn't expecting to see him here. You could imagine my surprise. What are you doing here Edward?"

"I got a couple of jobs here. Commissioned work. Aro put me up here; apparently the other guesthouse is being renovated. I can go somewhere else if this is going to be a problem" I offered only out of politeness because I knew she'd reject the idea.

"Of course not" she waved her hand. "Oh I'm being rude. Edward this is Jacob my new friend he's also from Washington he live on First Beach in La Push, and Jacob this is Edward the incredible artist I was telling you about."

After the formal introductions I shook hands with the guy and stuffed my hands back in my pockets.

"Uh—um, I have that dinner to get ready for Jake, I'll see you later?" Bella spoke softly towards the guy.

"Of course" he eyed me suspiciously then swooped down and hugged her wrapping his arms around her and resting them on the small of her back. I resisted the urge to throw him against the wall and impale his face into the tile.

Once her gentleman friend was gone we stood in the foyer and stared at each other. She looked the same but different. Like an old photograph, it hadn't changed but I had so it skewed my perception of it. It was only the little things about her that had changed though, her hair, her skin, the freckles that covered her nose now, and her style of clothes. The freshness that emanated from her was ingestible. It was new and clean and alive.

"It's so great to see you," I stated. "You look—"

"And you" she blurted out.

"Are you going to Aro's dinner tonight" I asked.

"Yes, I didn't know you were attending" she blinked hurriedly.

"I was invited only a couple of hours ago. I was wondering if I could follow you up the hill, I don't really know how to get there."

"Of course, just give me a moment to change" she walked past me and started to go up the stairs then stopped herself. "It really is great to see you again."

I sat at the bottom of the staircase and waited; looking down at my watch I waited a good 45 minutes, at least one thing about her didn't change. She cascaded down the staircase in a gown. An honest full-length floral printed gown. I've never seen her in a gown. The tiny straps that rested on her shoulders exposed the subtle tan that shaded her skin. Her jeweled sandals gleamed when she walked and the fabric of her gown lifted showcasing her toes, which were painted a subtle lilac.

"A little bit of Scarlett O'Hara for an Italian villa" I joked standing up.

"It's not a southern belle dress, it's a maxi dress, there's a difference," she noted.

"What's the difference?" I asked unable to differentiate.

"Maxi dresses are more casual, but this one is a bit dressier, Aro's dinners tend to be long and rather formal. Are you ready?"

"If you are" I opened the front door for her taking note of all the little characteristics that had changed about her. Beginning with her confidence.

She led the way through the iron gates and out to the main village and up a series of steps towards the palace.

"How have you been?" she began.

"Well" I answered. It was somewhat of a lie because I certainly wasn't well but it was enough of the truth that I didn't feel guilty about it. "And you?"

"Wonderful, great actually."

We didn't speak again until we got to the top of the mountain and I used the large lion head knocker to announce our arrival. The door was opened by Afton, the dark haired, reclusive butler. But Aro the host with the most hospitality greeted us at the door sans cape but with his wide beaming smile and his sing-songy hello.

"Dearest Isabella I do hope you aren't too upset with me for springing Edward on you. I had no idea Sulpicia was remodeling our other guesthouse otherwise I would have given you sufficient warning" Aro apologized.

"Really it's not a big deal, Edward and I are used to living together right?" she turned to me and smiled and I couldn't tell if it was honest or if she was being sarcastic.

"Clearly" I replied throwing back the same level of obscurity that she gave me. She quirked her brow but digressed and we were held for a moment in a silent standoff that was only broken by Aro's laughter.

"Ha ha ha! Wonderful! Follow me my lovely young friends, my brothers are so anxious to see you Edward" Aro turned on his heels and lead us through a series of dark corridors lit only by candlelight and the scent of Aro's heady cologne.

I wasn't frightened by the cool draft I felt or the darkness that surrounded me but I was intently mesmerized by the way Bella walked in front of me. How her hair was swept to the side so her neck was exposed. How her scapula's danced back and forth with the motion of her arms like a pendulum. How behind the pungent musk of Aro's cologne I could pick up notes of floral fragrances emanating from her heated body. It was intoxicating but no matter how much she hypnotized me there would always be that small voice in the back of my head that warned me not to get too close.

We were taken into a sitting room where two men and three women where already seated in conversation.

"Bella already knows the family but Edward I'd like to introduce you firstly to my brother Marcus and his wife Didyme" Aro spoke and up stood a tall man with long brown hair that resembled mine at the moment. His pale skin matched his brothers but his voice was as breathless and decaying as leaves in an autumn forest. He came across as apathetic and solemn but it was clear his adoration for Didyme was his only priority. His wife Didyme was the exact opposite however her liveliness and happiness was tangible and contagious for the moment I thought I was in love with her. For the moment I was held within her presence all of my summertime sadness had faded into oblivion.

"My other brother the one who initially introduced me to your talents, Caius and his wife Athenodora" again Aro introduced the two and they stood. Caius seemed intentionally cruel and unflinchingly aggressive. His skin was the same brilliant pale blonde hue of his hair. His wife Athenodora was quiet natured but to me it appeared to be a reaction to an unhealthy codependency on Caius. She spoke very little and he spoke very frequently. It was an odd relationship that I didn't understand. Him and his wife bared an uncanny resemblance to each other, like two Nordic cousins.

"Finally my beautiful wife Sulpicia" up stood a slim, tall, brunette whose hair fell in long waves down her black dress. I didn't want to offend Aro but Sulpicia held nothing for me. Her beauty was just average. But it wasn't to say she wasn't beautiful. I've always been one to believe that beauty was in the eye of the beholder. Aro clearly saw something in her that I did not see which was wonderful and beautiful. I've read letters from viewers of my exhibition that literally said that they didn't understand what the hype was about that they didn't believe Bella was worth 50 photographs and 21 paintings but it was just that they didn't see what I saw. I believe that is the case with Sulpicia. Perhaps I just needed to get to know her on a personal level; maybe that is what I need to change my perception of her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Edward" she smiled and shook my hand. I matched her and began to mentally work through ways I could paint her for Aro. "Now that we're all here should we migrate to the dining room?"

"Wonderful idea I'm sure our guest of honor is famished from his travels" Aro agreed. I followed the host and hostess through the archway that lead to an ornate dining room. It was fit for royalty with the red drapes and the elaborate rugs and the ancient wooded dining table.

"An intimate gathering?" I asked Aro.

"Intimate in numbers but not in formality" he corrected himself with a laugh. "Please sit all."

Seating was arranged with placecards and I was assigned a middle seat opposite of Bella and between Athenodora and Didyme. Wine was poured, the first course was served and a toast was made, "To the artistic pursuits of our new American friends and the health, happiness, and loveliness of muses" I drank to that.

Conversations began to emerge about trivial matters such as the weather, the fruits in season, the local fish markets… etcetera.

"So Edward are you only here for my painting?" Sulpicia asked delicately sipping her artichoke soup.

"Your portrait is one of the reasons I'm here" I began and Bella suddenly looked up at me with her wide brown doe eyes full of wonder and curiosity. She thought the other reason was her but I had to disappoint her unfortunately "And also because the La Scala ballet studio has asked me to do some paintings for their foyer."

"Really? Athenodora used to perform there, that's where we met," Caius informed me looking across the table at Athenodora who sat next to me but shrunk further into herself.

"Do you have any words of wisdom for me then?" I asked Athenodora specifically this time. She looked at me quite nervously then towards Caius whom I could see from my peripheral vision gave her a silent nod of encouragement.

"When you paint don't just watch the dancers, listen. The clock ticks away and for young dancers it's a rush out the door but for older more experienced dancers its like the time has flown away. Listen to the beating rhythm of frappés brushing across the floor or the sardonic sound of hard pointe shoes beating against the springs while seeming light as a feather. Listen to the laughter of the children or the heavy breathing of the apprentices. The rhythmic sounds of a ballet studio create that serene atmosphere of physical power and unmatched beauty" I honestly wasn't expecting her to say that much. I was anticipating a short five-word response not a monologue of astuteness. Her voice was what sort of stunned me. It wasn't shy and soft but the voice of an old age Hollywood goddess like Judy Garland or Vivien Leigh.

"Eloquently stated Athenodora," Aro smiled. "Do you know how long your staying?"

"My visa is valid for six months" I informed him.

"Six months is no time at all to see Italy you have to stay longer!" Aro cried. "Ask Isabella, she's married to Volterra."

"I have to admit I love the weather much more than Seattle" Bella inserted.

"I'd love to stay here with Bella but—"

"But what? You are two lovers divided by art, you will be reunited by art simple as that" it was Marcus who spoke then with his dying voice and unmoving lips.

Bella looked up at me after he spoke and her eyes conveyed nothing. No sense of surprise or outrage or anything.

"I've truly regretted that I wasn't able to attend your exhibition Edward" Caius stated. "But my brother gifted me one of your paintings and I have it displayed in my study."

"Really? Which one?"

"I believe it's the one titled _Daisy Buchanan_."

"Are you familiar with that one?" I asked Bella.

"Maybe if you gave me a little refresher" she responded.

"It's the one I painted after Rose and Emmett's dinner party."

"I've always wondered what influenced that painting" Didyme pondered.

"Mhm, influences? I didn't name it until after it was painted so it wasn't truly influenced after Daisy Buchanan it just reminded me of her once it was complete. I suppose the story behind it was just breakfast one morning. She was sitting in my bay window and the rain was pelting outside and I remember thinking to myself that we were thinking the same thoughts and breathing the same air and that at any moment this feeling could pass and I wouldn't be able to recapture it. Then when I was looking at it afterwards I thought about a quote from Daisy Buchanan when she says 'all the bright precious things fade so fast… and they don't come back' and thought how aptly it represented this painting… even more so now" I hinted.

"Simply stunning, I find I am always entranced by the romanticism of artists" Didyme sighed.

"It does make one long to be loved like the vision of a painting" Sulpicia added.

"I worship you every day like the vision of a painting" Aro laughed heartily.

"Oh stop it!" Sulpicia swatted her hand from across the table. "I've gotten old and grown tired, I can no longer entertain the follies of youth. That's why I believe you grow to admire art with age. It reminds you of the carelessness and beauty of youth before your hit with realities. It's one of the reasons I admired your exhibit so much Edward."

"Well I sure do entertain the follies of youth, one being chasing a girl all the way to Italy" I said the words coming out with more bitter hostility than I intended.

Bella looked up at me with seething antagonism "I didn't ask you to chase me, you could have easily sat in your apartment and drank away whatever twisted emotions you have towards me" she spat.

The room fell silent as the wait staff ushered away appetizers and laid down green pasta.

"Excuse my remark, I don't mean to upturn the evening" she apologized.

"On the contrary it's heavenly entertainment for us to see a lovers quarrel. As Sulpicia put it reminds us the follies of youth" Marcus commented in his tired rusting voice.

"Do you know what would be pleasant? Edward and Bella coming to our little vineyard" Didyme beamed happily changing the general mood of all guests in attendance. "What do say? Marcus and I would love to have you, please say you'll come one day"

I couldn't say no to her. Her happiness became my happiness. "Of course" I answered and Bella nodded with a tight smile making sure to not make eye contact with me.

"Travelers from all over the world stop at their doorstep for the best wine Italy has to offer" Sulpicia boasted.

"She exaggerates but I suppose I'm a little impartial" Didyme shrugged.

"How can I turn down an opportunity to become intoxicated on someone else's watch?" I asked taking a sip of my wine then.

Bella remained silent.

The conversation drifted from art to politics back to art to wine then art again. It would seem valid because the best artisans were Italian, Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Botticelli… the more recent by a little less than a decade Amedeo Modigliani and Giorgio de Chirico.

"Shall we go to the sitting room for coffee and cakes?" Sulpicia asked once dinner was over. There was so much discussion that took place I don't even remember eating, dishes just came and went like ocean breezes through the topics of tête-à-tête.

"Wonderful idea then Isabella can tell all about the new library" Didyme smiled and looped arms with Bella. I followed the general party into a luxurious sitting room where couches and armchairs scattered the room and voices echoed off Cyprus wooded walls.

"Tell me Edward what are your plans for a follow-up exhibition?" Caius asked. "Off the record of course, I wont publish anything without your approval."

"I don't have any plans at the moment."

"Nothing at all?"

I shook my head.

"Would you go the same route you went with your last?"

"I don't know, I don't have a source of inspiration" I admitted setting my coffee down on the end table and looking over to Bella who sat on the sofa next to Didyme opposite of Sulpicia and Athenodora.

"Are you familiar with Oscar Wilde's harrowing tale of Dorian Grey?" Aro asked looking at both Bella, and myself Bella nodded and I shook my head. "You should really read it Edward, it's a very honest portrayal of life displayed through witty epigrams. It begins with an artist's infatuation with his model and then said models consequential obsession with his own youth and beauty. Anyways there is a quote somewhere towards the end of the novel where Lord Henry says 'when you and he ceased to be great friends he ceased to be a great artist.' I would hate for this to be the case with you my dear Edward, you know I do admire your work so very much, which is why you and Isabella need to make up."

"I'm afraid that's not my doing," I muttered. Then closed my mouth because I remembered that Emmett told me to just apologize and be the bigger man.

"What does it matter whose fault it was? Your young and wonderfully talented don't let a lovers quarrel separate you, I insist you kiss and make up" Aro stood up, cascaded over to me took my hand and stood me in front of Bella. "Up, up Miss. Isabella" she stood. "Kiss her Edward. A kiss in a foreign country heals all lovers' wounds. So kiss her then take her back to villa and make sweet love to her."

Bella turned red and I was haunted by the memories of our first and final sexcapade.

Sulpicia swatted Aro teasingly. "Behave yourself, Americans are far less vulgar than we are."

"Vulgar, love is human nature as is lovemaking. Its scientific and therapeutic. Now kiss her."

She looked at me as if she was willing to kiss but not wanting and I couldn't decided whether to take the plunge.

"Kiss her" Aro persisted.

I closed my eyes and did it. It wasn't a true kiss however. It was a peck, like the first kiss I gave Jenny Graham in 6th grade or how I kiss my aging grandmother. There was little to no romance in it.

"With a kiss like that there's no wonder why they quarrel" Marcus muttered and Didyme chuckled and suddenly I felt embarrassed. In the heat of the moment before I could think of stop myself… or be stopped, I took her in my arms with hands wrapped firmly around her face I kissed her as if I wasn't going to see her again. As if this was our last goodbye. As if we were back in my apartment. As if I loved her again. And once I released her she stumbled backwards for a moment stunned and out of breath. She turned red from shame of my performance but she didn't reject it.

"I think we should end dinner early tonight" Sulpicia said getting up hurriedly. "I am suddenly mad with exhaustion."

"Of course darling" Aro kissed her cheek and opened his arms "Shall we?" Caius led the way towards the foyer where I was kissed on the cheek by the entire party and sent out the door with the kindest intentions.

Once we were outside Bella and I were alone. We followed the lights strung from trees and the few lights that were still alit in the white homes as we precariously stepped over uneven rocks. Half way down she stopped and turned to me.

"Did you kiss me just because Aro told you or because you wanted to?" she asked abruptly.

"I wanted to" I told her and her lips were on mine again. We only stopped when an elderly woman walked up the steps with a basket eying us with humorous reminiscence as if remembering the exact moment fifty years ago when she was pressed against that same wall.

"Come on" she whispered with a giggle and grabbed my hand, briskly sprinting down the rest of the steps with more grace and elegance than I'd ever seen from her before. Her skirt billowed in the wind and momentarily I was caught in one of those moments where I was acutely aware of where I was, who I was with and how I felt. By the time we reached the bottom of the stairs we were out of breath tired but laughing as we meandered through the streets to our whitewashed villa. I kissed her the doorway running my fingers through her hair feeling the softness of the silk dress she wore and feeling its coolness warm against the heat of her body.

"Edward I—I've drunk too much—I"

"We've both drunk too much" I kissed her again.

"We're not together," she whispered against my lips.

"We don't have to be," I reminded her.

"If we do this nothing changes. We're just two vulnerable, sexual people that can't be alone tonight. Tonight I want lie in bed with you. Just tonight" her words came out with a breathless intensity that seized me.

"Just tonight" I repeated unlocking the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Did you like? Dislike it? Too much? I'm experimenting a little with characterization so let me know if you like it. Anyone have any guesses about where this is going? Leave suggestions and comments!<strong>


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